


The Nations Hima-papa Left Out

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Asian Family, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Genocide, Historical Hetalia, M/M, OC nations, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Racism, Racism, Swearing, World War II, Yay history
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-08 02:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13448286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There are almost 200 nations in the world, and each and every one of them has an important history that's as awesome as Prussia! So read on ahead to find a story filled with OCs and headcanons, in which I will explore the relationships between the OC nations and canonical nations.Yay history!





	1. North Korea ~ 조선 ~ Im Hyung Soo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a note, my personal headcanon is that human names are used as a way of expressing familiarity between nation personifications. That's why you'll see Hyung-Soo referring to some by their human names and others by their nation's name.

 

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* * *

  _ **670**_

Hyung-Soo dashed through the bamboo forest, sticks hitting his face as he charged onwards. Overhead, the sun was setting. As he watched the orb sink deeper and deeper out of the corner of his eye, Hyung-Soo felt his panic increase.

“Yong-Soo, you moron!” Hyung-Soo screamed. “Where are you?”

Stopping to catch his breath, Hyung-Soo glanced around the bamboo woods. Dammit, why did his stupid twin brother have to get lost? If Yong-Soo hadn’t been such an idiot, they would be having dinner with their family right now! Hyung-Soo exhaled, clenching his fists.

What if Yong-Soo was hurt?

Angrily, Hyung-Soo kicked a nearby tree. It was a rather young one, so it fell over immediately, revealing a stray curl it had been hiding.

Hyung-Soo stiffened. Feeling his heart thudding, Hyung-Soo walked over to the curl and the owner of that curl.

Yong Soo was curled up on the ground, his eyes closed and a content grin on his stupid face. There was drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

Exhaling in relief, Hyung-Soo collapsed on the ground next to his stupid twin. Yong-Soo was okay. Everything was okay.

Feeling a sudden flash of irritation, Hyung-Soo smack the sleeping boy in the face.

With a yelp, Yong-Soo jolted up and looked around.

“What’s going on, da-ze?” The boy asked, rubbing his eyes. “Why’s it so dark?”

Hyung-Soo glared at him. “Because you’ve probably fallen asleep in the forest, you idiot! Do you have any idea how worried everyone was? We had no idea where you were!”

Yong-Soo’s eyes lit up. “Was Yao-hyung super worried about me, da-ze?”

“Shut up, you moron!” Hyung-Soo howled, smacking his twin again. “I was worried!”

This only served to make Yong-Soo even more joyful.

“Really? You were?” Yong-Soo squealed, leaping into Hyung-Soo’s arms. “Hyung was worried about me, da-ze!”

“Shut up, you idiot,” Hyung-Soo grumbled. “O-of course I was!”

Yong-Soo grinned stupidly. “Hyung will always care about me, right?”

“Of course I will!” Hyung-Soo huffed. “Now come on, let’s go get dinner.”

Pushing himself up, he helped his twin up as well.

“Dinner originated in Korea, da-ze!” Yong-Soo announced proudly.

Hyung-Soo rolled his eyes in exasperation at the ridiculously Yong-Soo-like display. As he grabbed onto his twin brother’s warm, familiar hand, Hyung-Soo couldn’t help but smile.

Yong-Soo grinned at him, his eyes bright.

“Hyung will always stay with me!”

* * *

_**1004** _

“Hyung-Soo!” Yao-hyung called, walking into the cozy room that Hyung-Soo shared with his twin brother. “It’s dinner time! I made jiao-zi!”

Hyung-Soo scowled, gripping his brush harder. He had been practicing calligraphy for so long, but it wasn’t good enough yet. The characters all looked so ridiculously sloppy not even his idiot twin Yong-Soo would find it funny.

Yao-hyung walked up to him, ruffling his hair. “ _Aiya_ , why are you looking so grumpy? Young children shouldn’t be looking so grumpy!” Yao-hyung tutted.

Biting his lip, Hyung-Soo stared in anger at the stupid,  _hanja_ -covered piece of paper. He felt tears well into his eyes, threataning to spill over. It wasn’t fair! Dammit, he had  _tried,_ but he just couldn't do it. He was so useless...

“What’s wrong?” Yao-hyung asked, seeming to notice Hyung-Soo’s turmoil. Yao-hyung glanced at the piece of paper, then smiled. “ _Aiya_ , are you worried about calligraphy again?”

Trying to stifle his sniffles, Hyung-Soo buried his face into his caretaker's soft silk robes.

Yao-hyung sighed fondly, leaning down to give Hyung-Soo a soft kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry about calligraphy,  _bao-bei._  Regardless of anything, you are still so dear to my heart.”

Hyung-Soo looked up to see his older brother smiling gently at him. A warmth blossomed in his chest as he pulled himself tighter to the older man.

“Now, give me a little smile, won’t you?” Yao-hyung teased softly, squishing Hyung-Soo’s cheeks.

Pouting, Hyung-Soo turned his flushed face away from Yao-hyung’s.

Yao-hyung laughed. “Come on, it’s dinner time.”

Nodding obediently, Hyung-Soo got up and gripped his older brother’s warm hand tightly.

_Here he was safe._

_Here he was warm._

_Here someone loved him._

* * *

  _ **1941**_

A wave of loathing flooded Hyung-Soo’s heart as he stared at the man in front of him and his twin brother.

_Bastard. Traitor. Monster._

Japan.

His body ached all over, but the hatred was stronger. Summoning up his last reserves of strength, Hyung-Soo spat at the person he had once called brother.

Brother.

 _Please_.

Japan or Kiku or whatever you wanted to call him was nothing more than a monster.

With a flourish, Japan pulled out his sword.

“Be respectful of your betters, filth,” Japan said coldly.

Yong-Soo clung tighter to Hyung-Soo. Even more rage exploded in Hyung-Soo’s stomach. “

Someday,” Hyung-Soo hissed. “Someday, Korea will be strong again. And your pathetic island will be nothing more than a pile of rubb-”

Japan drove his sword into Hyung-Soo’s stomach. Yong-Soo screamed in terror. But Hyung-Soo didn’t whimper. He didn’t beg. The pain was nothing. The blood was nothing. Japan had already caused so much pain and spilled so much blood in this land.

“ _You_  are the filth,” Hyung-Soo hissed, the memories of his people suffering at Japan’s hand embedded into his mind. His woman’s bodies, exploited to satisfy Japan. His men’s lives, lost to fight Japan.

“ _Uri nara mansae_!”

* * *

  _ **1945**_

 _I want my twin brother_ , Hyung-Soo thought, as he sat in a tight little ball against the wall.

It was a dark room, made even worse by the fact that he didn’t have Yong Soo’s smile to give him comfort. Korea had suffered through the years. But throughout all that, Hyung-Soo had always had his twin brother. But now…

The door to the room opened. Hyung-Soo looked up, instinctively sitting up straighter, as Yao-hyung had always taught him to. A tall, vaguely familiar man was walking in. He was a foreigner, with a large nose and light hair. There was a scarf wrapped around his neck and he was dressed in a long coat.

“ _Privet_!” The man sang, his eyes an eerie purple. Walking over, he picked up Hyung-Soo. “I am Mother Russia!”

Yelping, Hyung-Soo struggled, but the man was ridiculously strong.

“Let me go!” Hyung-Soo yelled. “I want to see my brother!”

Russia giggled. “How adorable,  _da_? Mother Russia is thinking that he likes little Hyung-Hyung! Will Hyung-Hyung become one with Mother Russia?”

“W-what do you mean?” Hyung-Soo demanded angrily. “Let me see Yong-Soo!”

“Little Yong-Soo?” Russia pouted, almost childishly. “Ah, he’s gone off with that capitalist America.  _Poka-poka_ to him!”

Hyung-Soo felt his blood freeze. In that moment, he felt his little shell of a heart grow even more empty. His brother. His only constant after all these years. His only source of happiness and hope during the dark days with Imperial Japan.

Gone.  _Gone_. Gone off with some damn foreigner, and now Hyung-Soo was all alone, now he had nothing...

Russia sighed, hugging Hyung-Soo tightly. “It is unfortunate,  _da_? But not to worry. Everyone shall become one with Mother Russia in the end! To make you feel better, perhaps we can go visit Yao-Yao someday.”

A little warmth crept back into Hyung-Soo. “Yao-hyung?”

“Da!” Ivan-hyung sang. “Now, you may call me… let’s see… perhaps you could call me Papa Ivan, and Yao-Yao will be your mama! Perfect!” He began to stroke Hyung-Soo’s hair, the motion so comforting and loving…

Hyung-Soo wasn’t sure when the last time someone had stroked his hair was. Though his heart hurt from the loss of his precious twin, Hyung-Soo couldn’t help but gripping onto Russia’s coat tightly as tears began to fill his eyes.

“Mother Russia has tons of other friends,” Ivan-hyung continued. “And they will be like your cousins! Oh, and Mother Russia has two beautiful  _sestry_ , and they will be your aunts! Ah, what a happy little family!"

_Family._

_That sounded nice._

* * *

_**1955** _

“Hyung!” Gilbert shouted rambunctiously as Hyung-Soo walked into Gilbert’s house. “You’re here!”

Hyung-Soo scowled at the albino and his dumb bird. “Shut up.”

Gilbert rolled his eyes. “No need to be so grumpy! Jeez, you’re like an old man. I mean, you are an old man, but-”

“Shut up!” Hyung-Soo snapped.

Gilbird chirped.

Hyung-Soo shrugged off his shoes and put his hat on the hatrack. He wondered whether he should take off his coat too, before deciding not to. It was winter, and even with the coat, Hyung-Soo was still freezing. Sighing, he stomped over to Gilbert’s living room alongside the overly-cheerful man. Hyung-Soo sat down on Gilbert’s sofa, crossing his arms. Gilbert’s sofa was rather threadbare, but Gilbert insisted on calling it “ _The Awesome, Supreme Sofa_ _of Supreme Awesomeness_.”

What a stupid name.

The two sat in comfortable silence for a while. Gilbert shuffled closer to Hyung-Soo, until their arms were touching. Hyung-Soo swallowed, unused to the warmth of another human being. Damn, things were so lonely these days…

Suddenly, Gilbert hopped up.

“I just remembered!” The German yelled excitedly. “I have a surprise for you!”

Gilbert ran to the kitchen. A few seconds later, there was the sound of crashing. Hyung-Soo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. Finally, Gilbert came back with a tray and a proud expression. On the tray were two forks, a knife, and a plate that was covered with a blue cloth.

“Ta-da!” Gilbert exclaimed, sitting down beside Hyung-Soo and setting the tray on his lap.

Hyung-Soo scowled. “A cloth-covered plate and some utensils. How exciting.”

Gilbert smirked. “You only sound unexcited because you haven’t seen what’s underneath the cloth!”

“Do enlighten me, then,” Hyung-Soo said drily.

Grinning smugly, Gilbert whisked off the cloth to reveal a  _cake_. While it was only the size of Hyung-Soo’s small, and it had an odd hole in the middle, Hyung-Soo felt his mouth water nonetheless. His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten anything in too long. And when was the last time he had tasted something sweet? It was probably ten months ago, during New Year’s, when Yao-hyung had secretly snuck him five sesame  _tangyuan_.

“Behold, the  _Gugelhupf_!” Gilbert announced proudly. “Feel free to praise me; I know I’m awesome! Monetary gifts are appreciated, but verbal adoration is enough.”

As the initial wave of hunger passed, Hyung-Soo felt his stomach tighten.

“Gilbert,” He said, “Are you sure this is legal?”

Gilbert’s eyes flickered. “Wow, you sound like West…”

Hyung-Soo bit his lip. The other man suddenly looked so vulnerable, and the mention of Gilbert’s own estranged brother made Hyung-Soo think of Yong-Soo. Sighing, Hyung-Soo grabbed a knife.

“Stupid Western utensils,” Hyung-Soo hissed as he cut the  _Gugelhupf_  into six pieces.

Gilbert’s face lit up. He grabbed a fork and stabbed one piece of the Gugelhupf onto the prongs.

“Say ‘ahhhh!’” Gilbert sang, jabbing the evil Western utensil towards Hyung Soo's mouth.

Hyung-Soo felt his face turn red. It was an odd sensation- he wasn't used to so much heat.

“Please?” Gilbert begged, pouting.

Scowling and still blushing, Hyung-Soo opened his mouth. Gilbert grinned, cupping Hyung-Soo’s chin and feeding a piece of the  _Gugelhupf_  to Hyung-Soo. Hyung-Soo chewed slowly, trying to restrain a content sigh. It was so good, and, though Hyung-Soo would die before he admitted it, Gilbert’s delighted, honest smile made it even better. Despite himself, Hyung-Soo couldn’t help but feel happy.

_A little piece of joy, in a dark, heartless world._

* * *

  _ **1986**_

“Hyung-Soo!” Carlos said jovially. “How do you like the sun?”

Hyung-Soo scowled, slouching deeper into the palm tree’s shadow and pulling his towel tighter around his shoulders. The beach was the worst place in the world. He had been lectured his entire life by countless people about how keeping his skin pale was important, and now Carlos was insisting that he need to get out into the sun and ruin his skin.

Carlos scoffed, looking amused as he walked over to Hyung-Soo and ruffled his hair.

Hyung-Soo scowl deepened.

“You’re such a girl,” Carlos told him.

Hyung-Soo glared at Carlos. “We’re going to my place next time!”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Does  _your_  place have great beaches?”

“My people don’t insist that ruining your skin is fun.”

“See? You’re a girl.”

“Shut up,” Hyung-Soo growled.

“You still like me better than America, though.”

“Of course! I would prefer a piece of feces over America, so long as it’s not American feces.”

Carlos laughed. “We should make that a slogan.”

Maybe it was the sun and Carlos' infectious cheerfulness, but North Korea couldn't help but snort a little.

* * *

_**1989** _

“Hungary!” Hyung-Soo shouted angrily as he kicked down the door to the woman’s house. “Hungary, show your traitorous little face now!”

“Don’t kick down my door!” Hungary yelled as she stormed to the foyer with a frying pan in hand.

“How dare you establish diplomatic relations with South Korea?” Hyung-Soo hissed.

Hungary put her hands on her hips. “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“South Korea is an idiot puppet of the bastard capitalist America!” Hyung-Soo snapped. “It is an entirely illegitimate government-”

“Look at you, spouting out communist propaganda,” Hungary sneered.

“I wouldn’t talk if I were you,” Hyung-Soo said, curling his lip. “Spouting out Nazi propag-”

There was a harsh sting on Hyung-Soo’s cheek. Hungary’s face was livid with rage.

“Get out!” She screamed.

“Fine,  _amkae_ ,” Hyung-Soo snarled. Turning around, Hyung-Soo stormed away from the European woman.

“What did you just call me?” Hungary screamed. “Come back here, you  _seggfej_!”

“ _Amkae_!” Hyung-Soo yelled again, his back to the woman as he walked further and further away.

“Fine! Say what you want! At least I actually have friends!”

Hyung-Soo clenched his fists, a familiar loathing burning in his chest. Dammit, why did so many who told him that they cared about him lie? Hungary was just the latest. Kiku and his bloody blade of imperialism, Yong-Soo and his friendship with the capitalist pig, Gilbert and the severance of their friendship after the Sino-Soviet Split, Ivan-hyung slowly cozying up with Yong-Soo…

Liars.

The whole world was filled with liars and monsters.

* * *

**2008**

“Yo, Commie!” The foolish American said in his stupid American voice with his moronic American grin, clapping Hyung-Soo’s back in an idiotically American manner.

Hyung-Soo wished that America was less American.

Actually, that sounded weird.

He wished that America would explode into nothingness, and take capitalism with it.

America laughed obnoxiously. He had a stupid backpack with tacos on it.“How did you like the New York Philharmonic concert? It was super cool, wasn’t it?”

Hyung-Soo’s eye twitched. Though he didn’t want to admit it, it had actually been _good._

“It was horrible,” Hyung-Soo snapped.

“Hey!” America shouted. “My people were awesome! Freedom!”

Angrily, Hyung-Soo pushed in front of America. The two were wandering the night streets of Pyongyang unsupervised, something that was a constant thorn in Hyung-Soo’s side. If they had had an escort, maybe America would be better behaved…?

Actually, Hyung-Soo was pretty sure America would stay his stupid, pig-like self.

“Anyways,” America continued, catching up with Hyung-Soo. “I have something for you! Don’t worry, it’s not a bomb-”

Hyung-Soo glared at the moron.

America grinned, a bit sheepishly, as he pulled out a large cardboard package from his stupid taco backpack.

“That looks like it could be a bomb,” Hyung-Soo said flatly.

“It’s a cake!” America proclaimed, handing it to Hyung-Soo.

Suspiciously, Hyung-Soo began to undo the bindings.

“Anyways, it tastes super good- well, I didn’t steal your surprise of course! But the baker of the cake made some for me before and it tasted super good. Oh, the baker’s Gilbert-”

He said those words right as Hyung-Soo peeled away the bindings to reveal a _Gugelhupf._

With a low snarl filled with loathing, Hyung-Soo slammed the cake in America’s face.

“Stupid capitalist pig!” Hyung-Soo screamed, unable to prevent the tears stinging in his eyes as past memories were stirred up again.

 _Kiku left Yong Soo left Ivan-hyung left Gilbert left Elizaveta left everyone left all of them it was all his fault all their fault dammit why_

America looked stunned. “Dude! If you didn’t want it, you could have at least given it to some of your starving citizens-”

“Shut up!” Hyung-Soo howled, unable to prevent the rumble of hunger in his stomach. “Go die!”

“Bro…” America was silent for a minute. “Is there some super painful story behind _Gugelhupf_?”

Hyung-Soo glared at him. America bit his lip, giving Hyung-Soo a look that was almost innocent. _Almost._

Then America sat down on the side of the road cross-legged. He patted for Hyung-Soo to sit next to him. Hyung-Soo stared at him incredulously, wondering if he could possibly kick America in the face.

But he felt tired. Scowling, Hyung-Soo sat next to the capitalist pig.

America grinned. Grabbing the discarded cardboard wrapping, America pulled the pieces of the cake off his face and deposited it onto the cardboard. Then he picked up a small piece and ate it.

Hyung-Soo gave him an incredulous look. America shrugged.

After he finished chewing, America began to speak.

“When I was a little kid- like, _colonies_ little, Iggy gave me some soldiers. They were custom-made- oh, I remember Yong-Soo telling me that Yao gave you two custom-made tigers once. But yeah, I was super delighted by the soldiers, ‘cause they were super cool. I used to play with them and proclaim that someday I would become a great, strong country. Iggy would always just laugh. Fast forwards to when I won the Revolutionary War, I went to put some momentos in my closet and I saw them. When I saw them… well, it was just such a damn mess of emotions.” America laughed, the sound abnormally bitter. “Over the years, the soldiers have kinda become a symbol of all my failures and regrets. Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret my independence, but I just wish I could have preserved my relationship with Iggy a bit better. I mean, we were fighting a war, but he was still my brother.” America swallowed. “You know, through it all, the racism, the sexism, the homophobia, the lives lost, the wars…” America exhaled. “Your Korean War.” Hyung-Soo looked away. “The soldiers are just _there_ and I want to chuck them out but I can’t, so they’re just there, reminding me of all the relationships that had been torn apart, how many people I’ve failed, and that however strong I am, I’m still _so_ damn miserable.”

Hyung-Soo was silent for a minute. Really, how did you react to your sworn enemy baring their soul to you?

“Why?” Hyung-Soo finally asked. “Why did you tell me?”

America shrugged. “‘Cause… uh… we can have a mini-group therapy session right here!”

Hyung-Soo realized that he had two options now. One was to sneer at the American and use his words to mock him. The other was to open himself up a bit.

“Can I call you Alfred?” Hyung-Soo asked.

Alfred grinned. “Then I get to call you Hyung-Soo.”

Hyung-Soo rolled his eyes. Swallowing, he stared at the broken pieces of the _Gugelhupf._

“You said the soldiers were a symbol of your failures,” Hyung-Soo said. “I guess the dumb cake is a symbol of all the people who’ve left me. When I was a child, I used to think that I would always be happy and safe with my family. That Yong-Soo would always be by my side and Yao-hyung would always protect us. But then the Europeans came in and Yao-hyung got weaker. Then Japan attacked all of us. The things he did to my people…” Hyung-Soo clenched his fists. “And to think he was once my brother. But through all that, I had Yong-Soo. Then you and Ivan-hyung separated us. It hurt, but I had a family with the Eastern Bloc. Sometimes, I would go and visit Gilbert. He gave me _Gugelhupf_ once _._ But then with the Sino-Soviet Split and the fall of the Soviet Union and a bunch of other stuff happened, and that family pretty much fell apart too.” Hyung-Soo felt tears well up in his eyes again. Dammit, he shouldn’t be so weak! 

Suddenly, he was surprised by Alfred giving him a hug. The capitalist pig smelled… okay, actually, and he was relatively warm.

“As a human being, I’m sorry,” Alfred said. “That I played a role in separating you and Yong-Soo. Maybe as nations there were a bunch of reasons behind it, but as humans…” Alfred swallowed.

“Get off of me,” Hyung-Soo muttered half-heartedly.

Alfred grinned, tugging Hyung-Soo’s braid. Hyung-Soo smacked his hand.

“On the subject of being human,” Alfred said. “Have you ever considered making more friends? Like, just as a human?”

Hyung-Soo stared at him incredulously.

“I mean, I know you already have Yao and Carlos and some other guys, but you know what they say- you can never have too many friends! I’m guessing you don’t wanna talk to Keeks anytime soon, but maybe you can start chatting with Gilbert again. Oh, and I can introduce you to my friends! Like, I know your government doesn’t like most of them, but my friends are actually pretty cool. Yosef- err, Israel- you two are interested in a lot of the same stuff. Y’know, music, reading, etc. Then there’s also the states! And Matt’s provinces! And Yong-Soo!”

Hyung-Soo scowled, making another half-hearted effort to disentangle himself from Alfred. “Shut up.”

Alfred shrugged. “Well, just because you’ve gotten burned in the past doesn’t mean you should give up loving. Love hurts, but the good stuff is worth the pain.”

“Please shut up,” Hyung-Soo muttered.

“Hey, you said ‘please!’” Alfred grinned. “Progress! Anyways, if you ever wanna try making some more friend, you could… eh… give Yao a call! Yeah! And I’m sure he would agree.”

Sighing, Hyung-Soo stared up into the night sky. He supposed that he and Alfred were an odd sight, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed American curled up with a North Korean on the streets of Pyongyang.

But then again, it was warm.

* * *

  _Though it pains me to lose you_

_And my heart has been gripped by the hands of loathing_

_Loving you was worth it_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes:
> 
> China & North Korea: Korea has received a lot of influence from China (Buddhism, hanja, etc.) and they have a lot of shared history. Today, China is arguably North Korea’s closest ally and their biggest trading partner.
> 
> Japan & North Korea: During WWII, the Imperial Japanese invaded some of its fellow Asians (Korea, China, Philippines, etc.). They killed millions of people. Some women, known as “comfort women,” were forced into sexual slavery. The estimates for the number of comfort women are very broad- they range from 20,000 to 410,000. Japan’s government never did properly apologize for the crimes they commited, they only gave out some cash. Obviously, the people who had suffered weren’t very delighted. Imagine if someone walked into your house, murdered your father and brother, raped your mother and sister, gave you some money, and asked you to forget the whole thing. Needless to say, you wouldn’t be very quick to agree. Being Chinese American, I know from personal experience that a lot of people in China are very resentful towards Japan for what they did. 
> 
> Russia & North Korea: After WWII, America and Russia split the Korean peninsula in half. North Korea went to Russia and subsequently became communist, while South Korea went to America and became capitalist. The original intention was for the two Koreas to reunite later, but I think we all know how that went…
> 
> Prussia/East Germany & North Korea: The two were both part of the Eastern/Communist Bloc after WWII and both their countries had been divided- Germany into East and West, Korea into North and South. East Germany and North Korea were pretty close. North Korea sent some exchange students to study in East Germany. However, their relationship started going downhill after the Sino-Soviet Split. East Germany took was more close with Russia, while North Korea was more close with China. After the Berlin Wall came down and Germany was reunified, that relationship really went sour.
> 
> Cuba & North Korea: Anti-US pro-communism buddies. They both have embassies in each other’s countries and think of each other as great. Cuba boycotted the 1988 Seoul Olympics for North Korea. After Fidel Castro's death, North Korea declared a three-day mourning period, sent an official delegation to his funeral, and Kim Jong-un visited the Cuban embassy.
> 
> Hungary & North Korea: After the Korean War, North Korea sent some people over to Hungary as exchange students. Some of those students aided the failed Hungarian Revolution of 1956. When Hungary became the first Eastern Bloc nation to open relations with South Korea, the relationship rapidly went downhill.
> 
> USA & North Korea: In 2008, the New York Philharmonic visited North Korea, which is where the excerpt is based. North Korea and the US hate each other in real life, but for the purpose of a nice, fluffy ending, I decided to make them nicer to each other. I mean, there have been (rare) moments of cooperation! Also, these are the personifications, so yeah...


	2. Israel - מְדִינַת יִשְׂרָאֵל - Yosef Mizrahi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this chapter, I'm not only going to teach y'all about history, but also explore what it feels like to be an actual nation personification, cause when you think about it, that job would suck. War, genocide, famine... need I say more? Since modern Israel's a relatively young nation (around your grandpa's age), I thought that it would be a good character to explore that with. Ya'know, he's new to the job, so he's still learning the ropes. Yeah, I'm considering modern Israel (1940s-present day) to be Israel in this story.
> 
> Just a note: updates are probably going to take a little more than a week, since I not only need to write but also research all this stuff. Yes, sadly, I can't just make up history. I also have school, so...

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**1947**

Yosef squirmed in his seat. The young boy had the face of a eight-year-old, though he was younger than he looked- something that was quite uncommon in nations. He looked altogether quite impish, with a sharp face and scars marring tanned skin. His bright, alert blue eyes had a rather startling effect against the grim of his face. The knife, hidden in his boot, felt heavy. Maybe because it was heavy. Not really, though. It was only kinda heavy. But it probably felt heavy because it was a constant reminder of Yosef’s people’s struggle for survival.

He decided that England’s eyebrows were stupid.

The British man was drinking tea, talking to some weird fairy thing. At least, that was what he was calling it. Yosef didn’t see anything. England was probably going crazy. Maybe it had something to do with the eyebrows.

He decided to tell England that his eyebrows were stupid.

“Your eyebrows are stupid,” Yosef informed England.

England gave him a withering look. At least, the Brit probably intended for it to be withering. It was actually that withering, though.

“This is why I’m giving you and Palestine to the UN tomorrow,” England snapped. He glanced at his stupid fancy British watch. “Speaking of him, where is your brother?”

“I don’t know,” Yosef muttered, slouching in his seat at the mention of his so-called brother.

“Don’t slouch,” England snapped.

Yosef stuck his tongue out at him. “You’re ugly.”

England turned a furious red. “Bloody hell! Why did my bosses even think it was even a good idea to get colonies? They’ve caused me nothing but trouble!”

“They’ve also given you money,” Yosef said drily. “And your bosses were probably desperate to make you look cooler, so they decided to get colonies, since they thought it would make you 10 times cooler. The only problem is…”

“What?” England demanded, looking suspicious.

“Ten times zero is zero.”

“You bloody little devil child!” England shrieked, hopping up from his chair and slamming the table.

His face so red Yosef thought he might actually _die_.

Yosef grinned smugly.

He hoped England would actually die.

“Come on,” England snapped, turning away from the table as the red began to recede from his face.

The Brit grabbed his hat.

Yosef stared at him. “Don’t we need to wait for Palestine?”

“I’ll have one of my assistants pick him up later,” England grumbled. “I don’t want to spend another minute with you.”

“Well, what a coincidence,” Yosef said, hopping up. Though there was a burst of delight in his heart, he tried to keep his expression schooled. “Because I don’t want to spend another minute with you either.”

He had an actual chance now. An actual chance to become a nation. An actual chance to grow stronger. An actual chance to give the Jewish people a safe homeland.

He had a future.

* * *

 

**1948**

“So,” America said in accented Hebrew, smiling. He was eating one of those “hamburger” things. “You’re Israel.”

“You speak Hebrew?” Yosef asked, giving the man a surprised glance.

He wouldn’t have expected the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, altogether Western-looking man to be able to speak the language of the Jewish people.

America grinned. “Well, I have a bunch of Jewish people in my country, so that makes total sense, right?”

“I guess…” Yosef muttered, looking at his feet.

America was nice. Yosef wasn’t too used to people being nice to him. Maybe they could be allies. Or even friends. He had heard that America used to be one of England’s colonies, but then declared independence and beat England in the ensuing war. America was also one of the Allies that defeated Nazi Germany.

America sounded okay.

“Cute kid,” America remarked, ruffling Yosef’s hair with a gloved hand.

Yosef let out a noise of protest, looking balefully at the man. Having his hair ruffled was actually sort of _okay_ , though. He wasn’t used to such brotherly gestures of affection.

America grinned, removing his hand with a final ruffle. “Anyways, what’re you in human years? Like, eight or nine?” America snickered. “So cute.”

“Stop calling me cute!” Yosef whined, stomping his feet. He could feel his face starting to turn red. “A-and I’m more like… ten! Or eleven!”

To be honest, he didn’t really know how he felt about being called cute. He had been called multiple things before (pretty much all of them having negative connotations), but never cute.

America sighed. “Okay, I guess I do kinda sound like Yao. You are cute th-”

“Shut up!” Yosef howled.

“Aww, he’s… what’s that word Kiku uses… tsundere! Anyways, you can call me Alfred.”

Yosef huffed, turning his face away in an attempt to keep his blush hidden. _Alfred_. “Whatever. I’m Yosef.”

“Can I call you Yo-yo?” Alfred asked, leaning down until he was eye-level with Yosef and smiling teasingly.

Yosef turned bright red, glaring at Alfred. “No! That’s stupid!”

“Izzy, then?”

“Th-that’s a girl name!” Yosef squeaked, stomping his foot angrily.

Alfred laughed, his blue eyes bright. “‘Kay, Izzy it is. I like that one better.”

Yosef coughed, the flush still bright on his cheek. “N-no one cares! Are you going to recognize me as a country or not?”

“Well, you’re really tough and awesome. I also think that you have the makings of an awesome sidekick, and I need an awesome sidekick, since I’m an awesome hero, and awesome heroes always have awesome sidekicks-”

“Stop using the word ‘awesome!’” Yosef snapped, stomping his foot. “And I’m not being your sidekick.”

Alfred pouted. “But…” Then he perked up again. “Oh well, I still have the Allies! I’ll be your big brother instead, which would make sense, since I’m the first one recognizing you as a country!”

“Huh?” Yosef choked out, the sudden rush of good news a shock for him.

He not only had someone recognize him as a country, but he also had a big brother, and it was the superpower America. Was he hallucinating?

“I said I’m going to recognize you as a country!” Alfred said cheerfully, patting Yosef on the head. “My boss has agreed and everything! I’m also going to be your big brother! Isn’t that great news?”

Yosef blinked. Suddenly, he felt like crying. Using one sentence, America had managed to give Yosef so much on his wish list. His country had recognition. His people hadn’t spilt their blood for nothing. And Yosef had his first real big brother before- Palestine and England were jerks, so they didn’t count.

“Y-yeah,” Yosef mumbled, looking at his feet.

“Awesome!” Alfred sang, grabbing Yosef and giving him a tight hug, picking the Jewish nation several inches off the ground in the process.

Yelping, Yosef grabbed onto Alfred coat to avoid falling off. He didn’t seem to be in any danger of it, though- Alfred was squeezing him so tightly. Unable to keep back a content sigh, Yosef closed his eyes and pressed his face into the warm safety of Alfred’s bomber jacket. His whole body was buzzing with happiness. Being held so tightly felt nice- it was rare for Yosef to feel so safe. As a matter of fact, he was almost certain he had never felt things safe.

Things would be okay.

* * *

 

**1949**

“Oi, little Jew!” A rough voice yelled.

Yosef flinched, glancing towards the source of the voice. It was Turkey, one of the Islamic countries. Damn, he had just wanted a peaceful day by the sea! Was that too much to ask for?

Standing up and feeling a little exposed without his shoes on, Yosef glared at Turkey. The taller nation was looking Yosef up and down, with a grin on his ugly, masked face.

“Mind if I join you?” Turkey asked finally.

“Huh?” Yosef squeaked.

Turkey looked impatient. “I asked if I could join you in an idyllic day by the beach.”

Yosef narrowed his eyes. Was it a trap?

“It’s not a trap,” Turkey said, noticing Yosef’s suspicion. “If I wanted to kill you, I would just straight up do it. Also, why would I bother killing you? You don’t do me much harm and besides, you and your people have proven to be annoyingly unkillable. The Crusaders have tried, Hitler’s tried, my fellow Muslim countries have tried, but none of them have succeeded in getting rid of all of you little shits.”

 _Was that supposed to be a compliment_? Yosef wondered. 

Turkey rolled his eyes. “ _Allah_ , have you forgotten how to speak?”

“Fine!” Yosef snapped, plopping down on the sand.

“Great,” Turkey said, sitting down beside Yosef and stretching out. “So, how’s your day?”

“Horrible, since you came,” Yosef grumbled.

“Ouch,” Turkey remarked drily. “Well, anything I can do to make it better? That is, besides leaving.”

Yosef paused. “I just have on request.”

“Yes?”

“Never take off your mask. You look ugly enough with it on.”

Turkey was silent for a minute. Yosef wondered if he was going to explode.

Then Turkey burst out laughing.

The tall man tossed his head back and laughed to the skies. “Allah, now I see why the boring Brit hates you so much!” Turkey grinned, meeting Yosef’s eyes. The Turk’s eyes were dark slits behind his mask. “Well, I think you’re not that bad. I’m going to recognize you as a country.”

“ _What_?!”

“My boss has already agreed. That’s actually what I came here to tell you- your little sass there just solidified my liking for you. Well, have a nice day!”

With that, the giant ass-hat (a.k.a. Turkey) got up and walked off before Yosef could stop him.

_Had a Muslim-majority country actually just recognized me as a country?!_

Yosef pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Yep, it was definitely true.

Breathing, Yosef looked up at the blue sky, a new hope blossoming in his chest.

Maybe someday his life wouldn’t be constantly marked by a desperate war.

* * *

 

**1973**

It hurt all over.

Swallowing, Yosef surveyed the ripped-apart land. He was bleeding crimson, but not from physical damage.

From the lost lives of his people.

Had this particular place once been beautiful? Had anything ever been beautiful?

Sighing, Yosef leaned back against a ruined wall and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep and dream nice dreams, but he was certain that all he would ever have were nightmares.

Suddenly, he felt a shadow sliding over him. Opening his eyes, Yosef saw the face of his enemy.

Egypt.

Choking, Yosef hurriedly pulled out his gun and aimed it at the cold man.

_Murdererallthoselivesmypeopledamnyourotinhell_

However, Egypt looked unimpressed.

“Put the gun down,” Egypt said flatly. “We can’t kill each other anyways.”

“Monster,” Yosef spat out.

Egypt sat down next to Yosef. “And you’re not one? My siblings and I were living peacefully before you marched in and stole our lands.”

Yosef flushed, giving the man next to him a poisonous look. “My people only want to survive!”

“Who doesn’t?” Egypt lifted his head, his gaze fixed in the distance. “Abbad misses you.”

“Shut up,” Yosef snarled. _Palestine_. “He doesn’t.”

“He’s your brother.”

“Al, Mathias, Belia… all of them have been better big siblings than him.”

“He’s still your brother.”

“Palestine’s never spoken a friendly word in my direction!” Yosef yelled. “His leaders all rant about how I shouldn’t even exist!”

Egypt scoffed. “As Palestine, of course you’re enemies. But we’re talking about Abbad, the human.”

Yosef flinched, a memory coming over him. It was from when he and Palestine were still under Britain’s control. He had been asleep, when someone had come into his room. At the time, he had been so groggy that he just lay there, knowing that he couldn’t die anyways. Then, someone had began to stroke his hair. Yosef had been confused. Neither Palestine nor England would have done that. And then Palestine- or Abbad- had whispered something in his ear.

_“Little Yosef, perhaps Allah has damned us so that in this life we may never call each other brother. But I will forever hope that in the next life we shall embrace as brothers.”_

Afterwards, Abbad had left and Yosef had fallen asleep. The next morning, Yosef had dismissed it all as a dream. But was it really?

“Well…” Yosef said sullenly. “It doesn’t matter, anyways.”

Egypt nodded. “You’re right, it doesn't. We don’t exist for our own purposes; we exist solely for our people. Their wishes are our wishes; their alliances are our alliances. Anything else is frivolous.”

Yosef glared at him. “You’re not being helpful!”

“We’re supposed to be enemies, remember?”

“So this was some sort of plot to lower my defenses?”

“No, because if it was, it would be the stupidest plan ever.”

Yosef sighed bitterly, rubbing his gun. “Dammit, I hate being a nation! Everything’s just so… and you have to deal with everyone’s shit… and everyone’s so shitty to each other…” Yosef broke off, wondering why he was confessing his feelings to his enemy.

Egypt looked tired. “Well, I do wish that someday humanity may look each other in the eye and call each other friend. But… well, that’s not really going to happen, is it? We’ll just keep on charging forwards as best we can.” He stood up, giving Yosef a sad smile. “I would wish you well, but I cannot do so honestly without betraying my people. Goodbye, little ' _Iisrayiyl_.”

Yosef’s fellow nation walked off, his back straight and his shadow extending over the ground.

Squeezing his eyes shut as the figure faded from view, Yosef felt everything hurt even more. His body, throbbing with the pain of lives forever gone. His heart, throbbing with the pain of having a human heart.

* * *

 

**2008**

_Damn, this is awkward_ , Yosef thought, staring at the tall German from across the table. _Damn my boss for going off to have biscuits with Merkel and leaving me in this super awkward situation_!

What was it Prime Minister Olmert had said?

_“Why don’t you bring Mr. Germany back to your house and have some snacks together? It’d be nice to make new friends, don’t you think? Run along now, I’m going to go chat with Chancellor Merkel.”_

As if! Even if it hadn’t been for all the historical awkwardness, it still would have been tough for the two rather anti-social people to have become friends.

Germany coughed. Yosef blinked.

“Since it’s your birthday…” Germany coughed again, his face faintly red. “I baked you a cake.”

He pulled out a box and nudged it towards Yosef.

“Eh… thanks…” Yosef muttered, nervously opening the box. He half-expected some sort of England-esque cake, but he was surprised to see a beautiful-looking cake inside the box. It was one of those “black forest cakes” that Yosef had never tried. He felt his mouth water just at the sight of it. Yosef looked up at Germany. “Did you- like, you, yourself- make this?”

Germany nodded.

“Wow…” Yosef laughed awkwardly. “I never pegged you as the type to be able to bake something so yummy-looking. Like, I thought you just spent your days training away and getting super buff and stuff.” The minute the words left his mouth, Yosef wished he could take them back. They sounded like something a rich white kid would say.

Germany looked even more embarrassed.

Wishing he was better with people, Yosef scrambled to his kitchen to grab a knife, two forks, and two plates. Coming back, he quickly cut the cake up into messy pieces and put a slice of cake on each plate. He gave Germany a fork and a plate, before picking up his own fork, stabbing off a small chunk of cake and shoving it into his mouth.

“Holy shit this tastes good!” Yosef yelled, his mouth full of the rich cake.

Germany looked startled.

Blushing, Yosef went back to his cake.

“You know,” Yosef said, after a few seconds. “You’re the only one to have given me food this year for my birthday. Except for England. But you know, he’s England. He could burn ice cream. So yeah, thanks for that, ‘cause I really wanted food. I thought that maybe at least Yao would get me food, but he gave me this super long book with Confucian junk and told me that I needed to learn some ancient wisdom. Ugh! Then he started ranting about how annoying younger nations were these days and how I should listen to him more, since I’m only 60 and he’s 4,000. I was getting bored and I needed a way out, so guess what I did?”

“You faked a heart attack?”

“Eh… not quite. I just started screaming, like, really, really, loudly. Then I grabbed onto one of Yao’s super long sleeves and collapsed to the ground. Just for good measure, I drooled a little too. Yao got really pissed off and started screaming for Al and Belia to come and take care of their ‘stupid crazy little brother.’ But then Francis appeared out of nowhere, grabbed onto Yao’s other sleeve, and started moaning. Yao just turned, like, this ridiculous shade of red. He lifted his arms up, us with them, and literally swung us out the window into a smelly dumpster.”

Germany made a semi-snorting, semi-choking, semi-wheezing noise. It took Yosef a second to realize that the blonde man was laughing. Unsure of how to react to the unusual display, Yosef decided to stuff his mouth with the rest of the cake to avoid talking.

As Germany’s “laughing” stopped, the man coughed, looking embarrassed.

This whole thing was an embarrassment, but with cake.

“So…” Germany began. “I, eh, actually wanted to say…” The man paused.

Yosef briefly contemplated faking a heart attack to get out of the conversation.

“I’m sorry for the…” Germany swallowed, his blue eyes meeting Yosef’s own blue ones. “Holocaust.”

“You already said that before,” Yosef muttered, not sure what else to say. _Dammit, we should have just kept on telling stupid stories!_

Germany shrugged. “I just… wanted to… I mean…”

Yosef was silent. He stared at the cake crumbs.

Finally, he managed to squeeze out some words. “Well… it’s… we’re allies, now, aren’t we?” Swallowing, Yosef charged on ahead. “I mean, you’ve apologized and paid reparations, so we can’t be enemies forever. Besides, it’s been… what, more than 70 years now? Our children- children who weren’t part of the whole mess- they might be friends. We should give them that chance. For the future’s sake, Germany and Israel need to get along and make sure nothing like the Holocaust ever happens again.”

“That’s…” Germany bit his lip.

“Deep?” Yosef suggested.

The corners of Germany’s lips twitched.

Yosef decided that Germany really wasn’t that bad. Maybe they could be friends.

“You can call me Yosef,” Yosef said, extending his calloused hand to the other man.

Germany blinked, before extending his own weathered hand and taking Yosef’s with a soft expression on his face. “And you can call me Ludwig.”

_Maybe humanity could get better._

* * *

 

**2008**

“Yosef!” Belia chirped as she dashed off the plane. “Come give your _velká sestra_ a hug!”

Huffing and blushing, Yosef walked up to the older woman and gave her a hug. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see some of the pilots cooing and snickering.

Yosef blushed even harder, but he didn’t push away from Belia. She was soft and warm, and smelled like fresh-baked bread. Pressing his face into her shoulder, Yosef closed his eyes.

When the two finally broke apart, Belia immediately began to examine Yosef’s scarred face. She pressed her lips together in worry was she searched his face for any new scars. As she looked, Yosef realized with a start that somewhere along the line he had grown taller than her.

“Yosef,” She said, her voice motherly. “Please do be more careful.”

“I can take care of myself,” Yosef muttered, looking away angrily.

Belia rolled her eyes, letting go of Yosef to put her hands on her hips. “But you’re still my baby brother.”

“I’m not a baby!” Yosef whined.

“Mhmm,” Belia said drily.

“W-well, I’m taller than you now!”

“Sweetling, if height were a mark of maturity, Russia would be the most mature person in the world.”

Yosef sulked. “Anyways,” He said, trying to change the subject. “Don’t we need to train?”

Belia scoffed. “You sound like Ludwig! Is he rubbing off on you? Or was this anti-social tactic just inspired by him?”

“I-I-” Yosef sputtered, turning red.

“To answer your question,” Belia said brightly. “The training’s going to start in a few hours, so my cute _malý bratr_ and I are going to spend some quality time together!”

Yosef huffed. “Please don’t talk about me in third person. You sound like Russia.”

Belia flicked his cheek lightly. “Little brat.”

Unable to come up with a good comeback, Yosef settled for stomping his foot.

“But you’re so cute,” Belia sighed, giggling. “Oh, and thank you for letting my pilots train here!”

Yosef shrugged, feeling embarrassed. He could feel his face heating up. “W-well, you helped me when I was little, s-so… I thought… to thank you...”

Belia beamed. “Ah, I have such a sweet little brother. Now come on, you have to take me to get something good to eat!”

Grabbing Yosef’s hand in her own, she began dragging them off to somewhere. Contently, Yosef followed her, her kind hands holding him just as they always had.

I love you,  _אחות גדולה._

* * *

 

**2016**

“You need to eat more,” Yao chided as he dumped enough food to feed an army in front of Yosef.

“You’re going to die of over-eating,” Yosef muttered.

Yao smacked Yosef. “ _Aiya_! How dare you speak so disrespectfully to your elders? Back in my day-”

“No one cares.”

“ _Aiiiiyyyyyaaa_!” Yao shrieked, smacking him again.

The Chinese man sat down across from Yosef, giving the young nation a dirty look. Yosef rolled his eyes, slouching in his seat.

“Don’t slouch,” Yao snapped, picking up his chopsticks and eating a piece of beef. He looked up at Yosef. “Ah, right, I need some weapons.”

“Can’t you say it less bluntly?” Yosef complained.

Yao rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell others to do things you yourself can’t do.”

Yosef crossed his arms. “Well, I’ll look into it.”

“Good. When you come to eat dinner with my foreign minister and I tomorrow night, we can discuss it further. Hopefully Alfred won’t throw a fit about this deal.” Yao ate another piece of beef, before looking at Yosef with an accusatory scowl. “You’re not eating.”

“Fine, I’ll eat!” Yosef whined, eating a piece of delicious beef. “It tastes good,” He grunted, trying to keep his expression schooled.

Yao snorted. “Chinese food is the best in the world.”

“Excuse me, you pronounced ‘Israeli’ wrong.”

“Please.” Yao smirked. “Chinese food is world-renowned.”

Yosef scoffed.

Yao grinned slightly, his eyes a dark smoldering amber. There was something about the man that reminded Yosef of a tiger- he was loud and vivid, yes, but he liked to stalk his prey from the shadows.

“So,” Yao said, resting his chin on his hand and leaning forwards slightly. “I know you didn’t just come to my house for the food, or to get a new weapons deal. What does little _Yǐ-sè-liè_ want?”

Yosef scowled, wishing Yao was less perceptive. Dammit, old man!

“I…” Yosef swallowed, wishing he had magical transportation powers. “I was wondering if you remembered my mother? Ancient Israel?”

Yao’s golden eyes flickered. For a minute, Yosef could see thousands of years worth of grief- soldiers fallen on the battlefield, famines and droughts striking the land, old friends fading away or becoming enemies…

And then the moment passed and Yao’s tiger eyes were unreadable once more.

“Her name was Esther. She was like you- fierce, sharp, witty- but nicer. See, she reserved all the saltiness for her enemies, but you dole out portions of your saltiness to your friends as well.”

Yosef scowled, sticking out his tongue at Yao.

“If you keep doing that, your face will freeze like that,” Yao said scoldingly.

“Oh my-” Yosef groaned. “That was the most mom-est that anyone’s ever said to me.”

“It appears Alfred’s habit of butchering languages is rubbing off on you. Unfortunate.”

“Whatever!” Yosef huffed. “Keep telling me about my mom.”

Yao smiled nostalgically. “Well, she was quite a fighter. I remember her slicing off Rome’s balls once.”

Yosef choked on his beef.

“Ah, yes,” Yao sighed. “There was another time when she threw Ancient Egypt into the Nile. Quite a wonderful woman. Your people have always been tenacious fighters, hmm? But…” Yao’s smile faded. “She’s gone now.” His voice was thick. “I suppose death comes for everyone, be they human or nation, strong or weak, rich or poor, no?”

“Well…” Yosef shrugged, looking at the ground. “The Jewish people are still here. I mean, millions of us have died, but the people who’ve died… we remember them. We remember her. We keep their- her- spirit alive.”

Yao tilted his head. “Indeed. All those who are gone live on in what impact they’ve had on our world.” Looking out the window, Yao smiled sadly. “Then I suppose both you and I must live well and endure, little _Yǐ-sè-liè_ , seeing as we carry the memory of our people and thousands of years on our shoulders.”

* * *

 

**2017**

“Yosef!” Mathias yelled happily, sprinting towards Yosef through the crowd of people like an overeager dog. “I’ve missed you!”

The man, upon reaching Yosef, picked him up and swung him around in a hug. Yosef blushed, realizing Mathias was making a spectacle. People were staring at them, some giggling.

Mathias put him down, still grinning eagerly. “Did’ya miss me?”

“A little, but then you reminded me of how obnoxious you were.”

Mathias looked hurt. “Yosef!”

Yosef scowled, crossing his arms and looking away. Sometimes he wondered if Mathias was a masochist- however many times Lukas choked him with his tie, Mathias still followed the Norwegian around like an overgrown puppy.

“Aww, but I know you love your _storebror_ deep down inside,” Mathias cooed, squeezing Yosef’s cheeks. “Now c’mon! I wanna see Jerusalem!” 

"You’ve seen Jerusalem at least 10 times already.”

Mathias blinked. “Well… it’s like they always say: ‘you can never have too much of a good thing!’”

Yosef rolled his eyes. Mathias pouted. The two began to walk out of the busy airport.

“We can go to Kikar Denya,” Yosef finally suggested as the two reached Yosef’s blue Hyundai.

Mathias beamed, hopping into the shotgun seat. “Ooh! To commemorate our shared history! I love how you think, Yosef!”

Yosef rolled his eyes again. His eyes seemed to have an unfortunate habit of doing that around Mathias.

The two drove for a while, Mathias chattering loudly about his newest escapade, which involved Emil, cats, Tino, and an angry Lukas. Mathias had been charged by Lukas to look after Emil while Lukas went to sauna with Tino. The two had gone to a park. Sadly, Mathias had looked away for one minute to try to chat up a hot guy. When he looked back, there was a white-and-gray cat in Emil’s place. Mathias had panicked, grabbed the cat, and run to the sauna screaming that Emil had been turned into a cat. Lukas and Tino had both proceeded to act incredibly out of character. While Tino had called England threatening to castrate him if he didn’t turn Emil back, Lukas had taken cute cat photos for a few minutes. Sadly for Mathias, Lukas’ out-of-character-ness didn’t last long, as Lukas proceeded to strangle Mathias. The three and the cat had gone back to Lukas’ house, all in great distress. Then came the soap opera twist- Emil was sitting at the kitchen table.

Apparently, Emil had ditched Mathias and they had all been panicking about a stray cat.

When Yosef heard that part, he couldn’t help but let out a loud chortle.

Mathias grinned.

Trying to rearrange his face into a scowl, Yosef went back to focusing on the road.

“D’ya wanna hear another story?” Mathias asked cheerily. "Once-"

“We’re here,” Yosef interrupted, managing to completely stop his mirth as he parked the car.

Mathias pouted. “Well… another time, then!”

“Whatever,” Yosef muttered, determined not to let on that he actually enjoyed Mathias’ stories.

“We’re going to have a great brothers-day!” Mathias sang as he got out of the car, slinging his arm around Yosef. “Just me and my little bro, enjoying this awesome place! We can go have dinner had a falafel place later!”

Yosef huffed, shrugging off Mathias’ shoulder. The two walked in comfortable silence until the reached the memorial. As the two stared at it, Yosef saw Mathias face become more serious, revealing the aged warrior behind the cheerful grin.

“I-it’s nice, yeah?” Yosef muttered awkwardly. “I-I mean, how your people saved mine, even though they really didn’t have to…”

Mathias shrugged, his gaze distant. “We couldn’t have just let your people die. Your lives were just as important as ours.”

“Well…” Yosef shrugged. “It was still a good thing to do.”

“We’re all humans. We should help each other.”

“Barely anybody seems to do that, though,” Yosef said, feeling his voice shake.

“I think that in humanity’s core, there is a basic instinct for goodness,” Mathias said, smiling slightly. “I mean, you hear about all these terrible people, but there are also all these good people. People who are nice and brave and try to help others. Even if sometimes the actions are small, they still cause a ripple. And the good things people do… even though sometimes it may not pay off... with them, we can fight the badness in the world.” Mathias shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “I dunno if that makes sense.”

“It made sense,” Yosef said softly, taking his brother’s hand. “Like… us… right now. We’re alive, we’ve got family and friends, and we’re talking as brothers. Even though politics are harsh and someday we might be torn apart... we still do the best we can.”

Mathias nodded, grinning cheerfully. Yosef smiled back.

 _Perhaps_ , He thought, _Some of the people whom I have crossed paths with have left an imprint of cruelty in me. But there are still those who give me kindness and strength_.

As a breeze passed, Yosef tilted his head back to enjoy the promise of a future.

* * *

_Let us be our brother's keepers_

_Let us have strength to rival steel and fire_

_Surely then, our tomorrow shall come_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical notes:
> 
> England & Israel: Britain originally owned the area where Israel is now. That area also used to be Palestine. Before WWII, Britain supported the idea of a Jewish national home in Palestine. However, the commissioner who was to create the two separate states was assassinated by an Arab gunman. After WWII, Britain and the Jewish community had a huge argument over the immigration limits. Jewish groups began to struggle against British rule. During all this, there was the whole problem of how they were going to create an Arab state and a Jewish state in Palestine. In 1947, the British government was kinda like “eh F*** this” and handed the area off to the UN.
> 
> America & Israel: The US was the first country to extend to Israel any form of recognition. Today, the US is one of Israel’s closest allies, providing them with political, economic, and military support. During the years 1976 to 2004, Israel was the largest recipient of American aid. The alliance is a very strategic one- Israel gives the US a foothold in the Middle East, while the US can help keep Israel safe.
> 
> Turkey & Israel: Turkey was the first Muslim-majority country to recognize Israel as a country. While their relationship started out okay, it began to get bad during the 2000s due to a number of factors (e.g. a new Turkish prime minister, the 2008–09 Gaza War, the 2010 Gaza flotilla raid). In 2015, the two countries began conducting negotiations to normalize relations again. An agreement was reached in 2015.
> 
> Egypt & Israel: The excerpt is based in the Yom Kippur War, which was a war between a bunch of Arab states and Israel over territory. It’s called the Yom Kippur War because it began on (you guessed it) Yom Kippur. On Yom Kippur, the Arab forces launched a surprise attack on Israel-occupied territories. While the Arabs initially were winning, the Israelis eventually managed to turn the tide and the war ended in an Israeli victory. Later, peace agreements were made, and relationships have gradually improved since. While some say that Egypt is arguably Israel’s closest ally in the region, others say that it is more of a “cold peace.”
> 
> Germany & Israel: Initially, relations were frosty (unsurprisingly) because of the Holocaust. However, things became friendlier when Germany offered to pay reparations to Holocaust victims. When Germany was being reunited, Israel was against it because they were worried Germany would become Nazi again. Obviously, that didn’t happen, and the two countries are close today. Germany is Israel’s largest trading partner in Europe and the second largest in the world (after the US). They also have a strong military cooperation. The two countries agree on a lot of values and views on history (i.e. Holocaust bad, Hitler bad, anti-semitism bad, etc.) In 2008, German Chancellor Angela Merkel visited Israel. She spoke to the Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert and the Knesset (Israel’s Congress). This is when the excerpt is set.
> 
> The Czech Republic & Israel: The Czech Republic is one of Israel’s closest allies. Czechoslovakia was among the first countries to recognize Israel. During Israel’s early months, Czechoslovakia supported Israel by giving them military aircraft and weapons. However, the Communist regime broke off this support. After the Communist regime was ended, Czechoslovakia and Israel once again had close diplomatic relations. The Czech Republic has usually voted with Israel on UN matters and continually expressed its support for Israel. This excerpt is set in 2008, when the Czech Air Force wanted to train its pilots in desert conditions to prepare for a mission of Afghanistan. Israel offered their desert areas, as a way to express gratitude for the Czech Republic’s help early on.
> 
> Denmark & Israel: During WWII, Denmark was one of the few European countries to rescue almost all of its Jews. Due to their actions, Denmark was declared “Righteous Among the Nations”- an honorific given by Israel to non-Jews who risked their lives to save Jews during WWII. In Israel, there is a monument to the rescue of Danish Jews (Kikar Denya, where the story is set), a school named in Denmark's honor, and a hospital named after Denmark's king during World War II.
> 
> China & Israel: China is Israel's third-largest trading partner globally and largest trading partner in Asia. Israel has sold many weapons to China, though the US has forced Israel to cancel one deal selling China the Phalcon, an Israeli airborne early-warning radar system. China is also one of the few countries in the world to maintain good relations with Israel and the Muslim world at large. The relationship has strategic importance to both countries, giving each other power and influence. China and Israel also share many cultural values- frugality, education, hard work, etc.
> 
> Next planned: Armenia
> 
> Feel free to leave requests~!


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